


Breath of Heaven

by ragnarok89



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Introspection, Limbo, One Shot, POV Alternating, Post-Predacons Rising (Prime Movie), Post-Series, Post-War, Purgatory, Reunions, Sad and Sweet, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-10-29
Packaged: 2018-04-28 20:12:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5104253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ragnarok89/pseuds/ragnarok89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oneshot. The future was safe. Takes place after the series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breath of Heaven

When it happened, finally, it was quiet. The war was gone, and it had ended, as quickly as it came. All the violence, all the sacrifices made, countless lives lost, and the battles that their lives had become was gone. They were not in vain, they were not near Death's door anymore.

It had come with a price, though.

Optimus had never known himself to lose control of his emotions. When he did, he knew that it would be all too much. It was when the war had pulled too much of what he tried to protect, what he tried to regain of their fallen homeworld, and when he could hardly bear the clarity of it all.

He had kept fighting the noblest of fights, scarred beyond all repair, and near the darkness and light convalescing together. Cybertron was safe, but Optimus soon fell upon the ground with a thud, his form shaking and worn, and his spark pulsating.

He had fallen. He had brought himself to the All Spark, for the future of Cybertron, for generations to come.

There was nothing but shrouded light above him, and he let out short vents to keep himself intact, to hold himself together.

He thought that he couldn't keep his optics open, not for another second. The light was blinding him. He lifted his servo to shield his optics.

As if there was a prayer finally answered, pedes softly padded the ground towards him, and a figure stepped out of the cloying darkness.

Elita stood over him, her optics wavering, glimmering, and she kneeled down to him, her soft servo upon his helm. Optimus looked up at her with venting breaths, blinking, as if his own sight betrayed him. He tried to stand, but he couldn't, instead looking up with blind adoration, "Elita….I thought..."

"No," Elita replied, her vocal processor firm yet soothing, and wished that she could literally choke on her own tears.

"E-Elita….have I failed you?"

"No, Optimus. My dear, sweet Optimus, _I_  have failed  _you_."

With a shaking servo, Optimus reached up and stroked Elita's faceplates, warm against the cold that surrounded them. "I-I'm sorry, Elita. I didn't think I would see you again."

Elita blinked and smiled softly, one that was heavy with so much that she had to bear, "Optimus, you have fought valiantly. I-I should have told you how I felt be….before it was too late."

"I know….."

She knew that this was true, and the war had taken so much away from them, so much that they could never regain, what they could never reclaim from the fiery Pit. "The war….it's over. Optimus, if this is all right, I will stay with you."

Optimus swallowed hard, and he sat himself up so that his optics would meet hers; he could bask in their shining light for what could be an eternity, and it still wouldn't be long enough. He lowered his servo from Elita's faceplates, almost slowly, and placed it on hers.

"Yes, that will be all right, Elita. I wouldn't wish for anything else."

The air was hollow inside his chassis, and she knew that to be true.

She leaned in, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and he let her. Optimus let Elita hold him close, he let himself be vulnerable in her presence, in her grasp. She held him close and couldn't think of it as a crime.

His skin, his armor, was cold even with the dull dry heat of this realm. If he didn't think otherwise, her touch might have burned him, after so long in frigid encompassing of war. He buried closer, wrapped in her softness and her embrace.

The light and darkness clung together as though it was their only choice.

Could they be blamed here?

Optimus Prime and Elita held on to the last embers of divinity, to each other, after the million-year civil war that had torn them apart.

She did not let that ruin her; she never stopped fighting. She never stopped fighting for her home, her team, her loved ones, for Optimus, and she pressed on through the war.

He never stopped through the war, no matter how much it hurt him, no matter how much Energon was spilled, and no matter how much it almost killed him, he pressed on.

Elita pulled away from the embrace, even though it pained her to do so, and Optimus didn't say a word, not even asking why. He thought of the armor that she had to put up all this time, how she wasn't ready to be vulnerable, and how she had to keep her guard up around her.

No matter how much affection he let himself show her in the past, and now, she still kept that armor surrounding her, like it was second nature.

Just like he had to, for the longest time.

"Elita, I-I still never thought you'd be here."

"I could say the same with you, Optimus."

Optimus looked away from her for a moment, as if to not let her see him in such a way, so beside himself, and he blinked, letting it all sink in.

Elita put her servo on his own, tracing small circles on it, absentmindedly, listlessly, and her optics cast down.

"It's beautiful there." She spoke quietly. "There's light, and it's so peaceful, full of more love and energy than you've ever experienced. There's no war, and there's no conflict. You'll know when the time is right, Optimus. I know I did."

Optimus looked at her again, moving closer to Elita, and putting an arm around her shoulders. "Is this the truth, Elita?"

Elita nodded, and her optics caught his as her sight started to glimmer once again. "Yes, it is. All that we have to do is just let go."

She placed a servo on his faceplate, and she smiled, one that was bittersweet, but loving. He returned that smile, slowly, but surely.

"All right, Elita."

"Then come, Optimus. Let me show you to the world."

Their sparks heavy, they knew what was next.

They knew what was on the other side.

They embraced once again. They felt the light and darkness surround them, cloying, grasping, tangling, clinging, tightening. They never let go of each other.

Never again did they let go. They had awoken to hold the breath of Heaven.

The future was safe.

They knew that forevermore.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this to hold both the bittersweet and darkened feelings that autumn sometimes brings, along with how Optimus and Elita could reunite in one way or another. I admit that I got a bit misty-eyed writing this. I hope that you all have a great All Hallow's Eve soon.


End file.
